No Fight Left
by seattlegracegirl
Summary: Regina is recovering in the Charming's apartment, but she's not the only one suffering. A bit of SwanQueen fluff/angst.


**A little bit of SwanQueen angst/fluff. Set after Regina is saved from Greig and Tamara. **

**Hope you enjoy! And please R&R!**

Regina lay on her back staring into the darkness. She was exhausted, and ached all over, but still, she couldn't sleep. It was unsettling to be under Snow's roof, even more so being in her bed. The woman herself was currently sleeping upstairs in Emma's room with Charming, the blonde saying she'd sleep on the couch after dropping Henry with Ruby to give them all a little breathing space. At the moment, however, she was still sitting on a stool in the darkened kitchen, tumbler in hand, and a bottle of scotch on the table before her.

Emma had barely spoken since returning that afternoon, still in shock. There were tears, and stuttered half explanations, but nothing concrete. So far, they knew Neal was gone, and Tamara and Grieg to blame. She had explained to Henry as best she could, but given that she was still struggling to process that afternoon's events herself, it had not gone well. Ruby, thankfully, had been understanding, taking Henry and saying that Emma would explain things more when she picked him up the next day, when it was clearer what had happened.

Regina jumped at the sound of Emma's tumbler hitting the counter with a bang. For a few moments after, there was silence, and then came a sound that tore at Regina's already aching heart. The sound of Emma's sobs were alarmingly similar to that of her sons, and the brunette found herself forcing her tired body to sit on the edge of the bed. Even that small movement was enough to exhaust her. Breathing deeply, Regina looked towards the sobbing blonde, who's head was buried in her arms on the counter. "Emma." She frowned when her voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper. "Emma."

Her voice was still quiet, but it was enough to bring Emma's head up. "Come here." She saw the blonde hesitate. "Don't fight me, Emma, I don't have the strength." She held out a hand, watching as the blonde half drunkenly stumbled across the apartment. "Come on, get in."

Emma shook her head. "Sleeping on the couch."

Regina sighed. Did she have to be a stubborn drunk? "Emma, I meant it when I said I don't have the strength to fight, just get in."

"I should go to the couch," mumbled Emma.

Taking a firm hold of the blonde's hand, Regina ignored the pain that made it almost impossible to breathe and moved over to the other side of the bed, dragging Emma with her. The blonde landed awkwardly on the side of the bed Regina had previously occupied, grumbling as she settled herself. Regina lay on her side, watching the blonde in the dim light afforded by the still lit kitchen lamp.

"Today sucked," Emma finally whispered, tears once more rolling down her cheeks.

The brunette squeezed the hand that still rested in her own. "It did."

"It really sucked," whispered Emma, her voice trembling. She turned to face the brunette. "You almost died."

"I'm used to it by now," smirked Regina. "Not the first time I've been saved by your mother either."

"I said I'd protect you," said Emma, frowning. "I…"

"You did," said Regina. "Without you I don't know what I'd be." She frowned as the blonde started sobbing again, turning away from her. "Emma?"

"I loved him," came the broken admission.

Regina sighed. It wasn't news to her. She had always been able to read Emma, and since beginning their relationship (not that they would call it that aloud, or admit it to anyone), that ability had only developed. "I know." She shuffled forward, pressing her front against Emma's back and putting an arm around her waist. "You've always loved him."

"How can you be okay with that?" came Emma's voice.

The brunette nuzzled the hair away from Emma's neck, burying her face in her scent. "You always love the first person that changes your life like that. You know I'll still always love Daniel, even after what I had to do to him. But he told me to love again, and I know that if I can love again, then you certainly can." She felt Emma's arm cover her own around the blonde's waist, and pressed herself more tightly against the figure in front of her. This was her saying she loved Emma, and she knew the blonde understood that. When Emma turned her head to press a sound kiss to her lips, that was her way of saying it back.


End file.
